An Extra Dose of Compassion
by doctoring
Summary: Hermione had to deal with Draco while helping in the hospital wing. She struggles to figure out if any of the symptoms are faked... which some are. Draco comes to regret faking his symptoms and causing more grief for Hermione as he starts to feel something quite confusing. Takes place during their 4th year. / Writer's Month Prompt: Hurt/Comfort
1. The Trials of Hermione

Hermione walks into the infirmary to see every bed was full, plus a few more patients sitting in chairs in the middle walkway. She runs to Madam Pomfrey at the far end. "What happened?"

Madam Pomfrey rushes by with two glasses, which she gives to two of the boys in chairs. "It seems that the quidditch players of Slytherin and Durmstrang decided to have a scrimmage, and their friends wanted to _help_, so now both teams are pretty much grounded."

Hermione looks around at the students, a sea of Slytherin outfits on one side and Durmstrang on the other.

"Mind checking up on those in the beds to see if they're still alright? I'll finish up with those in the chairs."

Hermione nodded and immediately grabbed a tray of supplies.

When she asked Madam Pomfrey if she could volunteer in the infirmary for extra experience, she just assumed it would be occasional patients and a chance to ask Madam Pomfrey plenty of medical questions in between. Not a full house of patients that she probably won't get through before the end of her two-hour shift today.

She begins questioning the first two Durmstrang students to see if they needed anything, when she hear a familiar yet annoying voice behind her.

"Granger! Why am I not surprised that you're treating the enemy first!?"

She spins on her heels. "I was getting to you, after I asked them if they needed anything. They were closer, after all. If you just learn a little patience then-"

"Don't lecture me! I'm injured! What if I tell Madam-"

Hermione slams her tray of supplies down on the next table. "Tell her what? That I'm treating a patient who needs help, while discerning those who are apparently well enough to gripe? If you're able to scold me, you're able to get out of that bed and-"

Hermione cut herself off when she saw Draco roll his eyes and burrow further down into the hospital cot.

_It's no use arguing with him. I'm not sure he'll ever change._

Madam Pomfrey managed to heal many of the students, all minor bumps, scrapes, and insignificant spell side effects. So, by the time Hermione had to leave, many of the other students in the infirmary left with her. However, a few needed more time to heal, including Draco.

Hermione looked back as she was leaving, and spotted Draco laughing with one of the other Slytherins who was free to go. _He's probably not hurt at all, if he's able to joke around like that… but then why did Madam Pomfrey allow him to stay? Surely she's not fooled by him? Is she?_

…_Or is he really hurt?_

Hermione shrugged it off and left for the day. But her concerns stayed with her for the three students unable to leave.

When Hermione entered the infirmary the next day, she saw Igor and Madam Pomfrey hovering over the first bed, where a Durmstrang student laid, groaning in pain.

Madam Pomfrey barely spared a glance up at Hermione. She quickly told her to tend to the other two students, while she dealt with this one.

Hermione checked the first student, and determined he might be free to go, but should probably wait until Madam Pomfrey could spare a moment to check him out, if he didn't mind the wait.

The student glance at the clock and said, "I have herbiology now, so of course I'll wait."

Hermione rolled her eyes at the academic disregard.

Before she could walk away, Draco started moaning. Loudly.

"It hurts… it hurts so bad…"

"What hurts, Malfoy?" Hermione asked as she approached him, struggling to hide the annoyance in her voice.

"Everything. Everything hurts. Being alive hurts."

"Don't be so dramatic. Now tell me what exactly hurts so I can help you?"

"All my limbs hurt, and I feel nauseated enough to hurl, and I've got this splitting headache. I feel as though the room is spinning rapidly around me."

Hermione watched as Draco groaned and rolled his head around on his pillow. He wasn't complaining or moving around when she first arrived today, but suddenly he's making a huge scene.

She shrugs, and decides to give him a mild painkiller, hoping that if he is hurting, it'll help, but if he is faking, it'll at least make him too tired to bother her, leaving her at peace during her four hour shift today.

However, about a half hour after she gave him the painkiller, Draco didn't seem any better. Hermione started to worry, concerned that he really might be hurt. _Otherwise, he should be fast asleep, instead of demanding constant attention… right?_

She went back to check on the other Slytherin, finding him fast asleep. As she stood there, Igor and Madam Pomfrey were still fretting over the Durmstrang student. She felt a loss as to what to do now since she already tidied the place and there were no other patients.

As soon as she thought about pulling out a book to study, Draco called out for her.

"What is it?" She said, walking over to him.

"My mouth is so dry! I think I'm dying!"

"Or are you just mildly thirsty and being dramatic?"

"I can barely speak!" Draco said with no sign of struggle in his voice.

"Here, have some water."

Hermione refilled his glass of water, which he greedily took, almost fumbling in the process. She watched him take two large gulps.

She starts to turn away when he says, "Not working!"

"What!?"

"This water is insufficient! I think I need pumpkin juice!"

Before she could protest, Madam Pomfrey appeared behind her, looking for more potions to use on the Durmstrang student. "Just give him the pumpkin juice to hush him up," she said quietly and sternly.

Hermione poured him a glass of pumpkin juice but found this all too odd. By Madam Pomfrey's tone, she could assume that Draco had been obnoxious and demanding, irritating her previously. But at the same time, she was confused as to why he was still here.

_He's got to be injured, right? That's the only reason one can stay here. But why does he make a scene about irrelevant things?_

She gives him the pumpkin juice, which he happily takes. He takes a sip, making a displeased face, and shaking the glass slightly, which confused Hermione. "I guess this will suffice. That'll do, Granger," He said with a dismissive wave of his hand.

Hermione turned from him, trying to quell her frustration at his abuse of the medical system.

After about another 10 minutes, Draco called out to her again, complaining that he was cold. Hermione ripped the blanket off the bed next to him and haphazardly tossed it on top of him. "You seem well enough to sort it yourself."

He doesn't though. He just lets it lay crookedly on top of him.

Hermione, meanwhile, cracked open a textbook, unable to concentrate over her concerns for Madam Pomfrey. She hoped to gain more knowledge of magical medicine, but apparently Madam Pomfrey fell victim to cries of wolf from overdramatic patients. She felt her respect for her slipping.

After another few minutes, she hears his voice again. "Granger, I thought you gave me a painkiller. My limbs feel no different whatsoever. Can't you do anything right?"

Hermione marched over to him and said, "Then let's see it then. Let's see what's causing all the problems."

She snatches his arm and roughly pushes his sleeve up. She already had the beginnings of a speech forming in her head, when her mind goes blank at the sight of his arm. All around his arm were bruises, scrapes, and weird swirling marks. They stood out drastically against his pale skin.

She trails her gaze down, towards his hand, where it appeared he was trying to stiffen his hand to prevent his fingers from twitching too much.

_He has magical wounds on top of normal physical wounds…_

He snatches his arm back, yanking down his sleeve. "Well, now you see it, I got a bit banged up. Just a little. So now, where's the _real_ painkiller. The one that works. Or do you need to go read about those in a book somewhere?"

She ignored his snarky comment, feeling a bit guilty for assuming he was faking the whole thing. She goes and gets a better painkilling potion, one that is a bit stronger, without the lethargic effect she was previously seeking. As he takes the potion, making a huge scene at how everything she gives him taste awful compared to the potions Madam Pomfrey makes, she wonders about his arm.

_Why is he trying to hide it, instead of getting immediate attention? Is this pride? Is he really allowing pride to overcome his chances of a quicker recovery?_

She decides she's going to try to help him heal (and get out of her hair) faster, while trying to minimize attention to his condition. She mixes a salve for him, and attempts to apply it without mentioning a word, hoping that a lack of discussion will help his ego.

It doesn't.

Malfoy snatches his arm from Hermione. "What do you think you're doing?"

"My job."

"This isn't your job, mudblood. You're not paid to pretend to fix people up and-"

"You know very well I know _exactly_ what I'm doing, and that I'm your best bet for getting out of here with that's going on still," Hermione said, jerking her head towards Madam Pomfrey, rubbing ointment over the Durmstrang student's severely scarred leg.

Draco glared at her, as she starts to rub the salve over his wrist. She then tried to roll his sleeve up more. She realizes that the markings run up the entire length of his arm, under his shirt, and that she'll be unable to reach it if he remains completely clothed.

"Remove your shirt, Draco."

"Excuse me?"

"I can't get to it all if you still have your shirt on."

Draco complies, while sneering at her. "Sure. You probably just wanted to see what a real man looks like, unlike those _children_, Potter and Weasley."

Hermione rolled her eyes and she begins to rub the salve into his shoulder, thankful that his torso wasn't affected.

"You're looking awfully red there, Granger."

Hermione suppressed her urge to call him out for being a hypocrite. She can see his own neck and chest beginning to flush, knowing full and well it was not a side effect of a salve.

Once done, she goes to rinse off her hands. Before she can wash off the salve completely, Draco calls for her again.

"My neck is starting to cramp. I need another pillow."

She complies, getting him a pillow from the bed next to him. Draco lays his head down roughly on the pillow over and over again, making sounds of discomfort.

"This feels more like a bag of rocks than a pillow! Are you trying to hurt me?"

Hermione sighs out heavily through her nose, as she grabs a pillow from a different bed. She fluffs it, to make a show that it's not lumpy, before placing it under Draco's head.

She waits for him to confirm its softness, but he doesn't lay back all the way.

"What's wrong?"

"I need to go to the bathroom."

"So? Then go."

"It hurts to get up out of bed."

Hermione felt the sympathy she felt for him slipping away quickly. She looks back towards Igor, hoping to pass the issue off to him, only to find him, Madam Pomfrey, and the Durmstrang student gone.

"Fine. Let's get you to the bathroom then."

She pulls back the covers to help him out of bed. As he starts to move a leg to the edge of the bed, his pants slide up a little, revealing his shin. She gasps aloud at the sight. It was in far worse condition than his arm.

She forces him to lay back down, as she carefully tries to pull up his pants leg.

Draco swats at her, "What do you think you're doing now? First my shirt now-"

"Don't, Draco! Just… Don't… let me check…"

Draco slowly lays back down, but not without making a show of rolling his eyes at her first.

She exposes more of his legs, and finds that though his wounds appear more severe, their spread is contained to his ankle and lower half of his legs. _Below the knees. Perfect._

"Lucky for both of us, you can keep your pants on."

"Sure, sure. But the bathroom?"

"Right. We'll tend to your legs after."

She helps him out of his bed and assists him to the lavatory. She wills herself not to blush as she's pressed up against his exposed, warm torso, a hand splayed out on his bare chest to help hold him up. She hastily pushes him through the doors to the lavatory and leans up against the wall by the door. She closes her eyes and hopes he doesn't need any more assistance besides this.

_This is _NOT_ what I signed up for when I agreed to volunteer in the infirmary!_

She hears Draco calls out for her and she groans, banging the back of her head against the wall lightly.

She keeps her eyes closed as she enters the lavatory carefully and quietly. She slowly peeks one eye open to see Draco leaning over the sink, breathing hard, and his face damp as if he washed it. She notes how he's slowly shifting from foot to foot, grimacing at times.

Draco calls out for her again, then slowly turns to the door. "Oh, you're here. Well quit perving and help me back into bed, now."

"Right."

Hermione quickly rushes to him and grabs hold of him again. She doesn't feel as embarrassed this time since she was distracted by Draco's behavior. He was clearly in pain while standing at the sink, but now he's trying to act like he's not affected by the injuries.

_He's doing a terrible job of it, but he's clearly trying to put up a front._

While he's sitting in bed, she applies the salve to his legs, struggling to go through her mental library of possible spells that might have caused this kind of reaction.

Once done, she helps him to lay back all the way onto the bed. As she pulls the cover up, Draco says, "This pillow is much better, but do fix that blanket, Granger. I know you can do better."

Hermione felt a pang of frustration, suddenly remembering his previous unnecessary demands. She does fix the blanket for him, but she doesn't try to hide her displeasure.

Draco, somehow, falls asleep soon after

With only an hour until the end of her shift, she hears Draco moaning. She slowly walks over to him, wondering if he was just dreaming or legitimately in pain again. He turns his head and looks her straight in the eyes.

"What did you do to me!?"

"Beg pardon!?"

"What did you do to me!? It hurts so much more!"

Hermione quickly grabbed his arm and noticed that the magical blemishes were already fading, along with a few bruises. "But it looks like it's healing."

"Then why does it burn!?"

"Burn!? What do you mean it burns!?"

"Surely you know what BURN means, Granger. It BURNS! IT FEELS AS IF IT'S ON FIRE!" Draco started groaning out in pain. Granger looks up towards Madam Pomfrey, who was scolding the other Slytherin, telling him he'd better hurry to class now or else.

"But it shouldn't burn, there's no way!"

She quickly consults a book and finds a simple potion that will help with inflammation and burning. She carefully makes it, her mind spinning around the vague warning.

**Do not administer too much lest severe side effects may occur.**

"_Severe side effects"… what does that mean? Are we talking about disorientation and digestive issues or… death?_

She gives him the potion, a slightly smaller dose than what she originally calculated, just to be on the safe side. He's still moaning in pain half an hour later, though it's not as loud or frequent.

Five minutes before she has to leave for the day, he seems much better, and she breathes a sigh of relief.

As she packs up her belongings to head to class, Draco makes an awful retching sound. She jerks her head to him just in time to see him roll and fall out of bed, scrambling for a waste basket. She turns her head involuntarily as he heaves into it.

She looks back and sees Madam Pomfrey already at his side, assisting him.

She hears voices outside the door, realizing its students rushing to class, like she should be doing right now. With one last look at Draco, she leaves.

Though she's physically in class, writing a composition on Welsh Wizards of the past, she's mentally figuring out ways as to help Draco's worsening condition.


	2. The Suffering of Draco

Draco washed his face after losing his dinner.

He enjoyed toying with Granger, seeing her wait on him through all his unnecessary demands, but now he realized he went too far. It was one thing to ask for direct but simple things, like pumpkin juice for a parched mouth or another pillow for a stiff neck. But vaguely saying his limbs burn when they don't? That was a mistake and he realizes it now, seeing as that the potion is causing him great discomfort and vomiting.

He shakes through a series of chills coursing through his entire body.

_Then there's this nonsense. I keep getting too cold all of a sudden._

He roughly wipes off the water from his face and makes his way to the door.

He limps out of the lavatory towards his bed, and startles when he feels someone grab his waist. He jerks away just to find Hermione reaching back for him before he stumbles backwards. She manages to catch him but caused him to instead fall forward against her.

She roughly pushes him upright while grabbing him around the waist again. "Oh, do stay still! I can't help you if you're flailing about!" She whispers angrily.

It's only then that Draco notices how dim the infirmary is, night having already fallen. Draco tries to look around for Madam Pomfrey, and at the two new students who were admitted since Granger had left, but his eyes kept falling on the Gryffindor, concentration and determination clear on her face as she guided him step-by-step towards the bed.

She lays him down and pulls out a small jar.

"If you don't mind, I've created a new salve. One that should reduce the marks and possible scarring, but also with minimal side effects. No worries, no possibility of a burning sensation. So, if you'll allow me…" She looks at him inquisitively.

Draco simply nods as she rolls up the bottom of his pants again. She suddenly stops and starts digging through her bag, pulling out a small vile.

"And I've also made a small potion. Sorry it won't taste great," She said with a hint of snark in her voice. "But at least it will ease any nausea you're feeling."

Hermione helps him drink the vile, then hands him a glass of water before applying the salve to his legs.

As she applies the salve to his arm, Draco wonders why she had returned, and why she had made two items especially for him.

_Was she that worried about me? Was she trying to correct her mistake?_

She stands up can carefully replaces the lid on the jar. "Do try to get some rest now. That's the best medicine."

Draco nods and settles back down into bed.

Before he can start to fall asleep, he feels violent shaking, as if someone were trying to wake him or possibly hurt him. He sits up just to realize it was himself, shivering hard.

In a fit of panic, he tries to shout for Granger, to make her aware that his chills are now more severe. He only manages a syllable before he feels a sudden surge in his torso. He barely manages to lean over his bed towards the waste basket before he's spitting up the potion Granger had given him.

Once his stomach had emptied out again, he sits up and finds that Granger had sat on the edge of his bed, attempting to hold a cold washcloth to his head. He lays back down with difficulty.

He wants to ask Granger what's wrong with him but finds himself incapable of words as she wipes his face clean, looking down at him with great concern. He's exhausted now and can't fight against his eyelids anymore. They close as he tries to get a better look at Hermione.

He isn't quite asleep when he feels the pressure in the hospital cot shift, indicating Granger leaving. He pays it no mind until he hears her mumbling. He strains to listen, and to open his eyes, seeing her hunched over a book by candlelight.

"I could have sworn I gave the right dose! This shouldn't have happened! How did the anti-inflammatory potion cause nausea so severe he can't keep anything else down!?"

He watches her frantically flip through pages in two different tomes, before his eyes fall shut again.

He doesn't fall asleep quickly though; his thoughts manage to keep him awake a bit longer. He can't bring himself to confess and let her know it was his own fault for faking his symptoms. That he wasn't really burning, and that the nausea is probably from receiving a potion he doesn't need.

He hardly slept before he felt that awful shaking feeling again, unable to stop the violent shivers. He yanks the covers around him, cringing at the feeling of his arm, sticky with salve, getting stuck on the blanket.

_Did Granger reapply at some point?_

"What is it? What's wrong?" Granger said, worriedly.

Draco didn't want to complain this time, wanting to put on a front for the impure Gryffindor, but his body was reacting against his will.

"Are you really that cold?" The skepticism was clear in her voice.

"Y-yes. Yes. I-I-I not f-faking," me manages to stutter out against his chattering teeth.

Hermione tries to tuck him in, but notices that he's getting salve all over the blankets. "You're not going to heal if you keep wiping it off."

Draco looks around for his shirt. "Not much I-I c-can do 'bout it w-w-with out my s-s-shirt."

Hermione looks around then halts, staring at him. _Why is she watching me shiver?_

He watches as she looks down at herself, pulling out the bottom of her oversized sweater. She looks at him, a bit distressed, before saying, "Don't you say a word. Not. One. Word. This is _solely_ to help you warm up without interfering with your arm."

Before Draco could say several words about her confusing statement, Hermione starts to pull the sweater up over her head. He looks at her incredulously as she tosses the sweater, still warm with her body heat, straight at his face.

"Here. Put that on. And not one word!"

Draco just holds the sweater, sitting up in bed, as he watches Granger pull out her wand and look around, probably for Madam Pomfrey. She gives him a stern look as she jerks her head to the sweater. He hastily pulls it on.

As he pulls the sweater past his eyes, he sees her mumble a spell at his hospital cot. Suddenly the blanket on top fluffs up, turning into a thicket, stuffed quilt. Granger snatches a blanket from across the walkway and pulls it over the quilt, trying to cover it.

"Don't tell Madam Pomfrey if you want to stay warm."

Draco nods and burrows further down into the blankets.

_Does she always go this far for her patients? Possibly breaking rules and literally giving clothes off her back._

She pulls the covers up to his face. She looks him straight into the eyes, and says fiercely, "I'm warning you. Not. One. Word."

_Her bedside manners could use improvement, though._

Draco watches her sit back down and start thumbing through a book. He then notices the stack of medicine and potions books and tomes next to her. He doesn't know if she's studying, looking for a solution to his condition, or both. But he does know one thing.

This tight feeling in his chest needs to go away.

He awakes early in the morning to the unfortunate sound of Potter.

He peeks his eyes open to see him several beds away, helping Weasley out of bed.

_I didn't know the ginger was here. How disgusting._

_Wait… did Granger know… did she come here last night to help her _precious Gryffindor_ with whatever nonsense he inflicted on himself?_

He strains to reflect on what happened last night and can only remember her doting on him or reading. Nothing else. He tries to push the thought aside, a bit ashamed of showing weakness in front of her.

He turns his head and watches Potter and Madam Pomfrey walk Weasley to the door. He can barely hear Potter talking to her. Then he hears Madam Pomfrey say, "Fine, but make it quick!"

He quickly closes his eyes when he sees Potter turn and head straight towards his cot.

"Hermione. Pst. Hermione, are you awake?"

Draco tries to suppress his fright when he feels the other side of his bed shift. He slowly turns his head and peeks his eyes open. He can barely make out that familiar curly hair, resting on the edge of his bed, right by his hand.

He feels his hand involuntarily twitch, and feels his fingertips graze the locks that laid against his hand. He had a sudden urge to reach out towards the curls. Before he could even process the meaning of this intrusive impulse, he sees Potter stepping closer and placing a hand on Hermione.

Draco shuts his eyes tightly. He can feel Potter shaking Hermione, a bit too hard in his opinion, just before he hears the obnoxious whispering again. "Hermione. C'mon, Hermione, get up!"

He feels a rush of rush of air and the movement of the hair, knowing the Hermione had sat up.

"H-Harry! What are you do-"

"Hermione. Have you been here all night?" Harry, the buffoon, wasn't even trying to whisper anymore.

"Yes. I had to… I had to do a bit of overtime… to check on the patients. We were pretty bogged down yesterday."

_Has she gotten her days confused… that was the day before yesterday… unless…_

"Well, McGonagall was worried, well, we all were worried, that you were ill or in trouble or something when you didn't show up for class, especially since that report was due today."

"Right!" Hermione said loudly, shock clear in her voice. "I was… I was a bit ill… plus, like I said, I had to do overtime… bit of a double hit to my ability to make it to class."

"So, you are ill? Are you alright now?"

Draco assumes she had only nodded since Harry continued to talk.

"Good. That's good. And I'm sure she'll let you turn it in this afternoon if you just ask. You're her favourite student after all."

_Wait… did she just lie about being ill?_

He hears Hermione scoff. "I'm certain McGonagall does NOT have fav-"

"Whatever. You know she does, and it has got to be you. Just ask her for an extension on your paper later. And… I'm glad you're okay…"

"Thank you, Harry. I should… I should probably get back to work now before I head back."

"Right. See ya."

Draco listens for Harry's footsteps. Waiting until he can safely assume he's gone. He hears Hermione mumbling again and risks opening his eyes. He watches as she rifles through papers, looking distraught.

"I can't believe I forgot to at least turn in that report!" He sees her pull out a piece of parchment and quickly scan it, before scribbling out a few sentences at the end.

"Oh, I hope Harry's right!" Hermione exclaims desperately as she quickly stacks a bunch of books on top of the table.

He sees her stand and lock eyes with him. "You're awake!"

"Y-yeah… Anyone would be with the racket you just made." Draco hoped he had sounded convincing enough.

He worries as she rushes towards him but feels relieved when she only turns the quilt back into a blanket.

"Are you still feeling cold?"

"Barely," Draco said without thinking. It is only then that he realizes that he feels normal. No chills, no nausea, and he's actually a bit heated at the moment.

She gets him to sit up for a moment and she switches out his pillow.

"That should hold you until this afternoon."

Before Draco could comment, Hermione turns and snatches up her parchment. She then rushes out the infirmary.

Draco sits up in bed, and watches the door, long after she leaves. He reflects on the past two days. Her snark mixed with her compassion. How she complies to his every whim, but also how she clearly knew when he was faking, except for the last time. How his foolish act had not only hurt him but cause her great distressed, to the point of neglecting her academics.

_Wait… Hermione Granger… forgot to turn in her report… was she really that worried over me, when it was all my fault. Granted, she didn't know if was all my fault, but still… I thought she hated me…_

He's lost in thought for quite some time until he realizes that he was in here because of his injuries, which were not hurting anymore. He goes to check his arm and was surprised to see unfamiliar fabric over his upper body.

_That's right… her sweater…_

He does a diligent job of checking the infirmary. There were no other patients and Madam Pomfrey was nowhere in sight. He hesitantly raises the collar of the sweater to his face and takes a tentative sniff. He checks the room again for Madam Pomfrey before holding the fabric to his face and breathing in deeply.

_Vanilla. Almost like a sugary vanilla, like sweets or pastries._

He hums to himself at the pleasant scent before hastily pulling the sweater back into place. He then goes about his original mission of checking his arm.

There are only faded scrapes and bruises left, none of the swirling marks of a spell gone wrong.

He nods approvingly.

"Nice work, Granger," He says quietly to himself.

As he lays back down onto the bed, he looks over to the table at the side and sees that she had left him a note at some point. It lists possible symptoms and what to do if he feels any of them, and what to do until she returns for her next shift.

He haphazardly tosses it into the wastebasket, knowing that he'll probably be out of the infirmary as soon as Madam Pomfrey returns and sees that he is well.

_But still… She was really worried about me… and did exceedingly well in trying to mend me…_

He toys with the sleeve of the sweater, wondering how he was going to return it to her, and if it was absolutely necessary to say thanks. Typically he wouldn't even dwell on it, knowing the obvious answer, but for some reason, he had the urge to at least thank her for her effort.

_She's not that bad… for a mud-… a muggle-born…_

-the end-


End file.
